


Desperate Measures

by Sumira79



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Mentions of Sam Winchester on Demon Blood, Post-Episode: s15e08 Our Father Who Aren't in Heaven, Season/Series 15, Serious Injuries, Vampire Sam Winchester, blood cravings, mentions of past addiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22127341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumira79/pseuds/Sumira79
Summary: Takes place some unspecified time after Episode: s15e08 "Our Father Who Aren't in Heaven". Sam and Dean are on a Vampire hunt when things go badly and they're left with a very tough choice: Allow Sam to die from his injury, or take some truly desperate measures.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 15
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Impala_Dreamer ‘s “End of Year Quickie” drabble challenge! (The first 2 chapters anyway.) Which is why both of them are just 500 words long each. Following chapter(s) will probably wind up being longer. As specified, it takes place sometime after 15X08 but not any specific time. (The important point is that the brothers know what became of Rowena after 15X03.) I've mostly stuck to canon-level violence and gore and that's my intent going forward, so there shouldn't be too many more warnings added, but I will add if anything else comes up.

From somewhere behind he heard Sam’s pained yell; a sound that’d always struck him cold but he couldn’t turn to look. The two vamps he faced required his full attention, but all the same he strained his ears for any indication that Sam was still fighting. He heard it, but he also heard labored breathing interspersed with painful gasps. One of the ones in front of him lunged and he was able to sidestep, pulling on an outstretched arm to throw him off balance while swinging his machete at the thing’s neck. A clean hit and its head rolled free while he went after the other one. Soon hers joined his and he swung around just as Sam finished off the last one he’d been fighting.

And Dean blanched when he saw three more bodies lying around Sam. Two. There’d only been two back there when they’d started. He ran to Sam just as he fell to his knees, his hand pressed tightly against a side already drenched in crimson.

“Sam!” Dean pulled his brother’s hand back so he could see the wound and felt like a pit had opened up underneath him. It was deep; clean and deep. No way it hadn’t hit something important. Sudden images of a hardware store, the baying of hellhounds and a flash of a flaming explosion flickered through his mind like a clip-show of his worst hits and he shook his head. No. Not like this.

“Sorry…” Sam was trying to say even as Dean tore at his own shirt to make some kind of bandage. “Didn’t see those two. One had a knife.”

Dean’s hands were shaking. Sam was already fading. And they were too far from anything.

“Sam… I can’t…” But his brother already seemed to know.

“S’okay.” He breathed out, blood bubbling at his lips. “Rowena’s in-charge downstairs… think she’ll cut me s’m slack.” Sam tried to chuckle but it came out a pained cough.

“Not happening!” Dean cast about for a way, ANY way… all he saw was blood and headless corpses. Then it clicked together. But Sam wouldn’t….

“Got an idea.” Picking up on the doubt in Dean’s voice, the questioning look Sam gave him reflected that.

“Now, just listen. It would only be temporary. I know we have the stuff in the trunk to do a reversal. You wouldn’t even have to drink it. I’d just rub some in your wound, but it’d fix you. And I know the cure is a bitch to go through, but it works.”

Even with Dean dancing around the issue Sam clearly saw what he was getting at and his eyes hardened. “What if… I say no?”

Dean remembered Gadreel. He remembered everything that had followed that. He felt his shoulders stoop in defeat, but he slowly nodded. “Then… I’d respect it.”

He felt the moments pass with every drop of blood that spilled from his brother’s side, until Sam gave another cough and gripped tightly to Dean’s arm. “Okay then.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people had expressed an interest in the first part, so I decided to do a second one, also as a drabble (or in this case, 500 words or less) but I think any further installments will be a bit longer. *LOL* They can be an interesting exercise in restraint and word economy, but I also find it pretty confining to get what I want across. Feedback is greatly valued though!

Due to a fallen log across the road it was a good hike back to the Impala. Sam trudged on, Dean helping him along, and the younger Winchester was secretly glad that it was already night. The moon was only three-quarters but it seemed to blare like a spotlight overhead, the stars little bright darts of light piercing into his eyes if he lifted them upwards and the bobbing flashlight Dean carried burned to the back of his skull. On top of that, every breaking twig or rustling leaf invaded his ears like a brass band and even his own breathing seemed to rasp through his body like he was an echoing cavern. Worst of all though were the smells. Well, one particular smell; Dean.

He vaguely remembered now like an image seen through water of Dean telling him he smelled like a hamburger, and… well, that was putting it lightly. Maybe to his brother that’s how he’d smelled, like the most tempting thing he’d wanted to eat. But for Sam it was a lot more simple, a lot more basic. Dean smelled like blood. He must have gotten injured in the fight because the scent was overpowering, and it pulled at something inside Sam; something that wanted it, longed for it, craved it. He hadn’t felt this way since standing in Famine’s presence. 

For not the first time Sam tried to veer away from Dean a bit but his brother’s hand snaked out and snagged his arm. “Better stay close Sammy. Woods are pretty dark.”

Sam knew that wasn’t really it. Hell, Sam could see better than Dean could right now. He knew Dean was just looking out for him, not wanting him to go running off crazy into the night. But the intoxicating scent was only getting stronger.

“Dean… you’re bleeding.” He gritted out pausing on the dirt road.

“Yeah, well, that’s the last thing I’m worried about right now.” Dean responded, his voice exasperated. “Wanna get you back and the cure in you ASAP.”

Sam was shaking his head as he again tried to back away. “Don’t get it… Dean, you’re BLEEDING. I can smell you and it’s… I can’t… you have to do something with it!”

Realization dawned on his face and he even looked a bit sheepish for a moment. “Oh. Um… sorry. I guess I kinda forgot.”

While Dean backed away a little to deal with the gash on his arm, Sam also took a few paces back, trying to stand upwind of him but not look like he was trying to get away. The wind was light but it carried the scent of damp loam and spicy ferns and moss, and Sam even found it a bit soothing. As he tried to calm the bloodlust he thought he heard a sound from somewhere far off. A piercing cry that he didn’t think was an animal. His eyes flew open as he stared off into the night.

“Dean… I think we’re gonna have company.”


End file.
